


A Little Bit of Lipstick

by knees_of_bees



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Almost Kiss, F/F, Flirting, In Public, Lipstick, Ministry of Magic Employee Hermione Granger, New Year's Eve, New Years, POV First Person, POV Pansy Parkinson, Post-Battle of Hogwarts, Post-Hogwarts, Post-War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-12 13:02:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28510875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/knees_of_bees/pseuds/knees_of_bees
Summary: Pansy and Ministry employee Hermione wind up at the same restaurant on New Year's Eve, and they run into one another in the public restroom. Hermione needs help fixing her lipstick and Pansy is all too happy to assist. They get dangerously close, breaths mingling and eyes meeting.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Pansy Parkinson
Kudos: 30





	A Little Bit of Lipstick

Hot water scalded my skin as I rinsed slimy public restroom soap from my fingers, studying my reflection. The new line of Madeleine’s Magic Makeup was certainly doing its job — not even my dark eyeshadow had smudged.

Millie had insisted we go out for New Year’s Eve, and the restaurant she’d dragged us to was crammed with Ministry officials donned in glitter and silk, seemingly in the midst of some holiday party. I’d seen Granger over Blaise’s shoulder and had half a mind to go chat her up. She was climbing up in the ranks, after all, and getting on her good side might prove useful, but something stilled me. 

I knew she wouldn’t forgive me. I knew, plain and simple, that she wouldn’t absolve me of jack shit, and for some reason, I cared.

So I certainly didn’t plan to get her alone in the bathroom, caught under a stream of water as the door swung open and she appeared in the mirror. 

Granger was tall, dark, and handsome. Buttons done up to her collarbone, deep red lipstick smudged, dark eyebrows drawn over darker eyes. 

“Hello, gorgeous,” I said lowly, smiling at her scowl. If we had to interact, I would have the upper hand. “Funny running into you — I just saw you yesterday.”

She scoffed, staring past me at her reflection, adjusting her white blouse. I kept my eyes trained steadily on her face, not letting my vision catch on the folds of the fabric. “I haven’t seen you in years, Parkinson, and I was quite happy with that.”

“‘Quite,’” I echoed, a hint of mockery slipping into my voice. “You’re cute when you’re proper. I mean in the papers, love. You’re all over them these days. One ought to congratulate you.”

“No congratulations necessary,” she replied, still fiddling with her reflection. “I’ll settle for some lipstick. I left mine at home.”

My eyes flickered toward her lips and something caught in my chest. “You’re in luck,” I said, steadying myself and tapping my lips. “Right here. I’m ready whenever you are.”

She rolled her eyes and I smiled sweetly, but I slipped a hand into my purse. “I can’t tell if what you’re wearing is more of a wine red or a vengeance.”

“Vengeance? Please don’t tell me that’s an actual lipstick name.”

Ignoring her ignorant comment, I whirled to face her, lipstick tubes in hand. “If you’ll let me check, love...” I held them up beside her face. “Color-matching is a skill of mine.”

Cupid would be jealous of her bow. No blemishes dotted her face, and her lips had an elegant shape. “Wine red,” I said decidedly. “If you’ll allow me…” I took the lid off the lipstick and held it between us, waiting to see if she’d take it or if she would, in fact, allow me.

She raised her eyebrows. “Go right ahead,” she said finally, unimpressed.

So I stepped close enough that I could feel her breath ghost my nose. She was tall enough and I short enough that my eyes were nearly level with her lips, but I lifted her chin with a finger for good measure. Her skin was soft. Miserably, wonderfully soft, and it took every ounce of willpower not to let my hand linger.

Uncapping the lipstick, I lifted it to her lips.

They were full, soft, and her breath was warm on my fingers. I had lined other people's lips a dozen times, but for some reason, my focus was wavering. The color slipped just a smidge too high.

"Oops," I said, voice soft so as not to disturb what little air lie between us. "Here, I'll..." Lifting a finger, I swiped the pigment away ― she should be grateful this wasn't lip _stain._

She sucked in a breath when I touched her skin, just slightly, so only someone well-versed in the sound would catch it. I glanced up and met her eyes. "You good, Granger?" She said nothing, for a change. Her gaze shifted to _my_ lips.

Then the door opened. Of course it did, of course it chose _that_ moment to interrupt, and of course she pulled back, because why shouldn't she? I'm not the type someone of her caliber should associate with, not even for a brief moment in a bright bathroom. She didn't even toss me a glance as she left. I was a one night lipstick-supplier, that's it.

The metal cap was cold on my skin as I stuck it back on the wine red. "Me too," I mumbled, tossing it into my purse. "Cold and lonely, baby." I didn't even care that someone now occupied a stall. Swinging the door open, I went back to my table, catching Granger's eye and flashing her a smile. I slid into the booth next to Blaise, pressing up against his warmth, and glared at the lipstick mark on my glass of champagne.


End file.
